The Reckoning: Quantum Prophecy Book 3 (7 page)

A voice said, “And if you want to
return
to that life, that can be arranged.”

They turned to see Impervia standing behind them. “Razor, back to the machine room. The rest of you…Go to your rooms and get some rest. I want to see you in my office in one hour.”

•  •  •

In the small town of Moate, Indiana, two teenage girls kept their eyes fixed straight ahead as they approached a large abandoned factory.

Erica van Piet and Karen Zemsty passed the factory every morning on their way to school, and they knew better than to even glance at it. The cluster of half-demolished, graffiti-covered buildings was well-known as a haven for local drug addicts and gang members. This wasn’t the worst part of town—there were places where even the police didn’t dare go alone—but it was bad enough that the girls knew better than to pass through on their own. There was some safety in numbers.

Erica was tall, slim and dark-skinned, while Karen was shorter and pale-skinned with long red hair. The day they met, Karen had told Erica, “The gangs’ll mostly leave you alone, ’less you draw attention to yourself. Never make eye contact. Never carry more than a coupla bucks. You don’t want them to think you’re worth mugging.”

Erica and Karen crossed the barely used, pothole-riddled street and quietly and quickly walked past the gaps in the rusted chain-link fence.

Only a few more minutes…
Erica thought. Her backpack was slung over her left shoulder, and she kept a loose grip on it.

She sensed Karen stiffen as something moved inside the complex—the faint scrape of metal on stone—and they increased their speed.

Someone should
do
something about that place. About this whole stupid town. I wish we’d never come here. I wish—

From behind, a rough, sneering voice called, “Hey, honeys! Hey, I jus’ wanna aks you somethin’!”

“Oh God,” Karen muttered.

“Just keep walking,” Erica whispered. She glanced around to see a teenage boy striding quickly toward them. He had a red bandanna tied around his head, and something sharp and metallic half-hidden in his hand. “Sorry,” she said. “Can’t stop. Late for school.”

I know
I
can outrun him, but Karen can’t.

Red-bandanna had almost reached them. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Erica took a deep breath and clenched her fists.

Then there was another noise behind them, a brief scuffle of footsteps, a muttered swearword from Red-bandanna. Erica glanced back to see a tall, well-built teenage boy racing across the street, slamming the mugger against the chain-link fence. She stopped and stared.

The boy was wearing a ski mask and gloves, and a blue T-shirt with a white lightning bolt painted on it.

Oh no…

The would-be superhero plowed his fist into Red-bandanna’s stomach, doubling him over.

God, I hope he knows what he’s doing.
Erica swallowed hard. She knew what was coming next: Two other gang members raced out of the shadows. The one with the crew cut was carrying a short, rusted metal bar. The other was empty-handed, but it was clear to Erica from his muscular, tattooed arms that he didn’t need a weapon.

The masked boy elbowed Crew-cut in the face, then yelled to Karen and Erica, “Get out of here! I can take care of myself!”

No you can’t,
Erica thought.
You’re big and strong, but you don’t know how to fight.

She felt Karen tugging at her hand, dragging her away.

“Erica, come
on
!”

But Erica van Piet wasn’t even listening. She was watching the gang members: Red-bandanna was holding the young man down while Tattoo was punching him in the face and stomach. Crew-cut was swearing loudly, nursing his bloodied nose.

Erica winced as Tattoo landed a savage kick square in the boy’s chest.

I promised I’d keep a low profile…. But I can’t just…They’ll
kill
him!

The boy was on the ground now, on his side, curled into a ball to shield himself from the kicking. Crew-cut approached, slapping the short metal bar against his open hand, waiting for his turn.

“For God’s sake, Erica! If they see you watching, they’ll come after
us
next!” Karen said, almost screaming.

Little louder than a whisper, Erica said, “There’s only three of them.”

“
What?
What are you saying?”

The dark-skinned girl slipped her backpack off her shoulder and passed it to Karen. “Hold this.” She began to walk back, toward the fight.

“Erica! Are you
crazy
?”

Crouched over the masked boy, Crew-cut raised the metal bar above his head, aiming for the boy’s face.

Erica leaped forward, somersaulted in the air, landed on her hands and slammed her feet into Crew-cut’s back.

The metal bar dropped from his hands: Erica grabbed it as it fell, swung it upward, hitting Red-bandanna in the back of his knees.

She whipped the bar in the opposite direction, jabbing the end straight into Tattoo’s bare upper arm, then spun about, delivering a roundhouse kick that caught Tattoo in the chin.

Erica straightened up.

Red-bandanna was on the ground, clutching his legs. Crew-cut was sprawled facedown across the masked boy, moaning and gasping for breath. Tattoo was flat on his back, unconscious.

Her attack had lasted no more than two seconds.

The masked boy rolled the still-moaning Crew-cut to one side and awkwardly got to his feet.

Deep brown eyes peered from the ski mask with a mixture of shock and gratitude. “I…How did you…? What just happened here?”

Erica glanced down at the boy’s shoes, then handed him the metal bar. “Next time, leave the superhero stuff to someone who knows what they’re doing.”

She turned around and walked back to Karen, who had turned even more pale and was starting to shake.

“Erica…Where did you learn to do
that
?”

“My dad taught me.” She took her backpack from Karen’s trembling hands. “Come on. If we’re late, we’ll get into trouble.”

Still staring at the beaten gang members, Karen said, “OK. Trouble. We don’t want to get into trouble….” She began to
walk backward. “Your dad taught you…. What was he? A cop or something?”

“Something like that, yes.” Erica put her hand on Karen’s face and forced her to look away. “Karen, listen to me, OK? This didn’t happen. Got that?”

Karen nodded. “Didn’t happen. All right. So what
did
happen?”

“Nothing.” They had reached the end of the block and Erica looked back to see that the masked boy had disappeared. “Nothing happened.”

They walked the rest of the way to school in silence. Erica was glad of that.

But what about the masked boy? If he starts to wonder about me…

She remembered the final meeting with the agent from the Witness Relocation Program: “You must
always
keep a low profile. Your family dynamic is unusual enough that if someone investigates, it won’t take them long to put two and two together and come up with the right answer.

“That’s the main reason we’re putting the girls into separate schools,” the agent had told her mother. “There are a lot of people who still believe that your husband was responsible for all those deaths, and since his identity was made public, we must do everything we can to keep you hidden. From now on, your name is Kara van Piet. Your daughters are Tanith and Erica.”

At the end of the meeting, the agent had handed each of them a document. “Sign these, please. They’re to confirm that you’ve understood everything I’ve said.”

When the documents were handed back, the agent had sighed.
“Two out of three. Now,
Erica,
see how easy it is to get it wrong? It’s
vital
that you remember that from now on your name is Erica van Piet, not Stephanie Cord.”

The New Heroes gathered in Impervia’s office, a small windowless room situated in the heart of the building. She was already sitting down behind her desk when they entered.

Impervia said, “I know you’ve been expressing some concerns about how we do things here, but that has got to stop. You have to accept things as they are and trust us. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Butler said.

Renata and Danny didn’t reply, but exchanged a glance at Butler’s use of the word
sir
—something Impervia insisted upon as a mark of respect to her position.

Impervia sighed and went on. “On a mission, you do as you are ordered. And you do not question those orders, nor speculate about them. That sort of thing is enough to give any witnesses good reason to believe that we are not acting as a unified team. The media are already asking questions about what we do here.”

Renata said, “Questions such as, why aren’t we actually helping people instead of blowing up the Trutopians’ emergency supplies?”

Before Impervia could respond, Danny asked, “
Did
you know what was on the island?”

“No, we did not,” Impervia said.

“If you had known, but the general still ordered you to blow it up, would you have?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s crazy!”

Butler said, “No, it’s not. You have to follow the chain of command. Whatever General Piers says, we do. Back when I was in the academy—”

“The academy that threw you out?” Razor asked. “Or was there another one?”

Butler ignored him. “Back when I was in the academy, the first rule we were taught was that people die if you don’t follow orders. The commanders know more than the people under them.” He looked at Impervia. “That’s why
you
were brought in to be in charge of us, right?”

Impervia nodded. “Because I have military experience as well as the experience of being a superhuman.”

Renata said, “Kinsella wants an explanation. What are you going to tell him? That it was a mistake?”

Impervia shook her head. “No. We’re not going to say anything.”

“But they have proof it was us.”

“The official word will be that the video was faked.”

Renata said, “But the Trutopians know the truth. They’ll tell everyone.”

“The Trutopians are a dictatorship,” Butler said. “They have no elected leaders, and the people don’t have a say in what happens. What we ought to do is arrest Kinsella.”

“Their members aren’t forced to join,” Renata said. “They know what they’re getting into. Everyone should have the right to make bad decisions, and no one should be allowed to take away that right. Not even us.”

“Screw the Trutopians,” Butler said “They’re nothing but a
bunch of crazies who think that you can save the world just by holding hands and singing about peace and love. That’s just bull. There has
never
been peace on this planet. There’s never been a time when there wasn’t a war going on somewhere. Human beings don’t
want
peace.”

Razor slowly clapped his hands. “That was brilliant, Bubbles. You’re a genius. If only the leaders of the world would listen to you, then everything would be perfect. You should—”

Razor suddenly found himself slammed against the wall, and held in place by an invisible force.

Butler said, “I could tighten my force-field around your skull and crush it to jelly.”

Impervia jumped to her feet. “Let him go, Butler!”

Butler took a step back and Razor dropped to the floor, gasping for breath. “You’re not worth the trouble, Razor,” Butler said. “You’re just a thug who got lucky. If you hadn’t met Colin Wagner, you’d still be on the streets of Jacksonville, stealing cars and praying that no one tougher came along. The only reason you’re here is because Solomon Cord imagined that he saw something in you that was worth saving. Well, Cord’s dead and Wagner’s run away like a scared little girl. So if you want to
stay
here, you’ll keep your big, ugly mouth shut or I will shut it for you. Permanently.”

Razor pushed himself to his feet. “You have no idea, do you, Redmond? You don’t know what it means to be a superhero.”

“Yes, I do. It means that I’m stronger than you are, so just shut up!”

“That’s
enough
!” Impervia roared. “The situation is this: We are going to get a lot of bad press because of what happened on
Isla del Tonatiuh, so we need to minimize the effect. That means we have to show the people that we
are
there for them, and that we are united. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes sir,” Butler said.

Renata and Razor nodded.

“Danny?”

“Yes. We are clear.”

“Good. In a couple of days, you, Renata and Butler will be sent out on standard patrols. This will be a publicity exercise more than anything else. When the armor is ready, the new Paragon will join you.”

Renata asked, “And what about the Trutopians? You’re really not going to admit what happened?”

“No. It was an accident.”

“The way I see it,” Danny said coldly, staring at Impervia, “we committed a crime against the Trutopians. It doesn’t matter whether it was an accident or not.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not in charge here, Mr. Cooper,” Impervia said, “because you clearly have absolutely no idea of how the real world works.”

“Oh, I think I’m beginning to understand.”

I
N
R
OMANIA
, C
OLIN WALKED ALONGSIDE
Reginald Kinsella as they made their way through the Trutopian community. Harriet and Byron walked a few meters ahead, and a large, expensive car purred along the street, keeping pace with them.

“You want to know how much the world’s governments hate us?” Kinsella asked. “Last month someone fired a missile at our jet. We were flying from Zimbabwe into Botswana. No one admitted to the attack, but you can bet anything that if the missile had actually hit us, there’d be a dozen different groups claiming responsibility.”

“How did you avoid the missile?”

“Good pilots,” Kinsella said. He gestured toward Harriet and Byron. “And those two are former FBI special agents. They’re good, but they’re only human. That’s one of the reasons I want you to join us. It’s not that I’m afraid of being assassinated—well, I am, but that’s not the main reason. The Trutopians are the only way to save the world, and if I’m not around to run the organization…”